James Through The Ages
by siriusly klutzy
Summary: Lily has always had impressive eyes, and James knew this from day one. A new reaction from James four different times he’s mesmerized by her eyes.


A/n: Believe it or not, guys, I'm not dead! Still alive and kicking! With good news. A couple colleges out there _actually want me_! As in, I've been accepted places! I'm hoping you can understand, what with this crazy college nonsense, why I've been such a slacker lately.

I had this idea floating around for a while (and by 'a while' I mean 'two days'). I hope you like it. It's something different, but still kind of the same.

Don't forget to review because you love me and miss me and desperately need to tell me to tone down the arrogance.

Much love and interesting things in life,  
Siriusly Klutzy

* * *

**Summary: Lily has always had impressive eyes, and James knew this from day one. A new reaction from James four different times he's mesmerized by her eyes.  
Disclaimer: I don't own this, Jo does. I'll get over it some day.**

**James Through the Ages  
**a Siriusly Klutzy story.

"You have _wicked _eyes," eleven-year-old James Potter said, peering up with a squint into the rather almond-shaped eyes of his newly acquired house mate and not-yet friend.

"Thanks," she said rather uncomfortably, glancing at the girl besides her for help. The girl merely shrugged. "They're…erm, my mums." Her left shoulder was inching towards her chin in an attempt to hide her face and subtly tell James Potter to get the hell away.

The boy across the table gasped, his beady eyes going as wide as they possibly could. "You _stole _your mums eyes?" he accused, mouth wide open, revealing a not-so-lovely half chewed pieces of chicken. "That's rather rude, you know." He nodded knowingly, as if he'd told all his friends back at home that it was 'rather rude' to steal one's mother's eyes.

"No, you idiot," the dark haired boy, Sirius Black, next to him said, cuffing him in the head. "She means her mum has the same eyes as her." He flicked a piece of hair out of his face before adding, "Don't mind him. He's an idiot. The sorting hat wouldn't even fit over his big head. That's how we think he got into Gryffindor. It couldn't make a proper decision." Beady-Eyed Boy glared.

Lily raised her eyebrows at the boys whose attention she had somehow gained. With one last look of skepticism at their intelligence, she turned back to her own new friend.

"Anyway, Alice," Lily continued, trying to go on in a story about life without magic. "It really isn't all that weird to not have moving pictures- ours stay still. It's quite nice. The other sounds quite distr-"

"But they're so _green_!" James exclaimed, pointing to her face with a giant smile. "I've never seen eyes that green in my entire lifetime." Lily thought for a moment that he might possibly be mad, and wondered whether the sorting hat was completely sober for putting a semi-mad boy in Gryffindor, but thought better about mentioning anything about it.

"Obviously you've never met my mother," Lily responded coolly, still feeling awkward about the whole situation. She'd taken to chewing on her thumbnail, a habit she'd had for years and found quite difficult to break.

His response was an eye roll. "Well, obviously I've never met your mother," James answered in a tone that sounded suspiciously like he was accusing her of being an idiot. "If I had, I would have seen eyes that green before, now wouldn't I?" Lily crossed her arms. "Honestly, it's no wonder the hat didn't put you in Ravenclaw. You need brains for that house."

And that was how James Potter received two glasses of pumpkin juice on his pants. One from Lily taking offense, and one from him jumping up in shock and spilling his _own _down the front of him as well.

James Potter wasn't quite the Master of Coordination at age eleven…

* * *

…Almost as much as he wasn't the Master of Suave at fifteen. Yes, he'd been staring at her for a full thirty seven seconds, noticing everything there is to notice about her. The way she had one foot curled underneath her as she jumped between reading a book and laughing at something Marlene was saying. The way the light from the fire could in no way compare to the light in her eyes. The way her teeth were unbelievably and most definitely the best teeth he'd ever laid eyes on.

Honestly, all these thoughts were making him quite sick of himself. He was a fifteen year old bloke for Merlin's sake, and he should not be thinking _those _types of things. He should be thinking about Quidditch, and multiple girls, not just one, and grunting. Because that is what boys of fifteen do. They play Quidditch, they chat up girls, and they grunt, mostly while playing Quidditch or doing something manly.

But no. There he was. Sitting around with his mates, catching the snitch when it came his way, staring at those bloody green eyes of Lily Evans while she didn't even bloody notice.

Honestly. What _was it _with girls and being so bloody dense about blokes? Did they know nothing?

"Prongs, what're you staring at?" Sirius called from what seemed like miles away. James blinked a couple times, ran a hand through his hair, and shook his head a bit.

"What?"

"Stop staring at Evans, will you? You're making me sick," said Sirius with a grin, nodding in the direction of the laughing girls. Miraculously, none of them had noticed them. How _was _that? How could they be so… so _oblivious _to the fact that James was absolutely smitten with the color of Lily Evans' eyes?

It was impossible, that's what he thought. Obviously they were just faking it. They must have all noticed. _That's probably what they're laughing at, _he thought miserably.

"_James_!" Sirius called, his tone seeping annoyance. "Stop staring at Evans' rack and come back to Planet Marauder."

If it was manly for blokes to blush, James would have been, without a doubt, doing it just then. He wasn't staring. His eyes grazed over that _once _but that was a transition from her curled foot to her green eyes. There was no way…

"Merlin, James, what is going on with you?" Sirius snapped him back to 'Planet Marauder.' "And if you start going on about how Evans is some sort of goddess, I swear to god I'm going to kick your ass."

"I wasn't," James defended. "Hey, Evans!" he called out, his brain screaming at him not to do it, but he was a fifteen year old bloke and, well, when did they listen to their brains anyway? He had to prove to Sirius that he wasn't some fluffy little she-man who was obsessed with a girl.

Lily, who'd been in the middle of an animated story, stopped, the laughter quickly leaving her eyes as she looked over at James, whose brain was going through code red but whose mouth was behaving like a proper fifteen year old bloke's would.

"What?" she asked curtly, readjusting herself on the chair.

"Nice rack," James answered with a nod, grinning as if he were to be idolized.

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Well, I'm knackered. We should probably go upstairs. Classes tomorrow," Remus said, staring down Sirius and Peter with hopes that they wouldn't get caught up in the cross fire.

James, sensing danger, started losing the glow to his pride after realizing what he'd said. Merlin, he could truly be an idiot at times.

"_What _did you say?" Lily asked dangerously.

This is why he really needed to stop listening to Sirius. Sirius was useless to him. He was no help to the happiness of James's life. In fact, he tended to put it at risk more than James himself did, though James had to partially take some of the blame for this one. It was, after all, his big gob that had done it. But if he hadn't been trying to prove himself to Sirius…

And that was how James Potter got a red mark the exact size and shape of Lily Evans' hand across his face.

* * *

In seventh year, it would be truthful and much easier to say that James had worked on his coordination and was no longer spilling multiple glasses of pumpkin juice on his lap. Also, he wasn't as much of an idiot as he was back in fifth year. It certainly helped that Sirius stopped causing him to do whimsical things, even if it had been one hundred percent his fault that he made that ridiculous comment, he'd later realized.

But it was all worth it. Everyone makes mistakes, right? At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Potter. Get it together," he murmured while standing in front of his mirror.

Today was _his _day. His. Absolutely his. And no one could mess that up. Not even the snoring Sirius across the room or the singing Peter in the shower. Unless, of course, they turned his face green like he'd once did to Sirius before a big date with some Ravenclaw.

That… that might possibly mess up his day.

Unless, of course, Lily found it cute, that is. In which case he would possibly owe his mates forever.

In fact, the date itself was going quite well. They'd managed to make it around half the village before having to stop at the Three Broomsticks in fear of losing limbs in their battle against frostbite along the way.

"If I had to lose a limb though," Lily said, clutching her hot butterbeer so close she was almost wrapped around it trying to absorb the heat, "I think it'd have to be…" She paused momentarily to make sure she picked the right one. "… It would have to be my right leg."

James snorted into his butterbeer. As he was mopping up the mess on the table while Lily watched with a bemused expression, he asked, "And why would that be?"

She bit her lip before raising her mug to her mouth. She took a thoughtful sip and stared at the ceiling for a moment before continuing. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem all that useful. I mean, I use both of my arms. Imagine reading with only one! That'd be horrible." She cringed at the thought. "Besides, hopping doesn't seem all that bad."

James grinned. "No, it doesn't. I'd help you around, too. You know, put your foot on wheels and pull you through the castle." Lily laughed. "Hopping would get tiring eventually."

"I 'spose it would," she agreed, grinning into her mug.

"Personally, though," he said, "I'm glad we came inside. I like you with both of your legs." With that, he put a hand on her knee under the table.

"Potter," she said, rolling her eyes, drawing his attention there for what felt like the millionth time in his life.

"You do have the best eyes I've ever seen," he muttered, looking into them in a would-be sappy way if he didn't have froth from his butterbeer on his upper lip. It was taking all Lily had in her not to wipe it off and laugh at him. But that, that certainly distracted her for a moment. "And teeth," he continued, remembering that humiliating day back in fifth year. "You have lovely teeth, too."

She was flushing like mad, which made him grin and ease the romantic air that had fallen upon them. He felt like he had fallen smack out of one of those long, dull, cliché romance novels his mother always read, going on about her eyes. And her teeth. Honestly, who talks about _teeth_? He was going mad and he knew it.

"Thanks?" she murmured awkwardly.

Great. He'd ruined it. He started wracking his brain for more subjects that didn't involve her facial features when she continued.

"You said something along those lines to me in first year," she said with a grin. "Do you remember?" She laughed. "It was more silly though." She thought for a moment. "I think you called them 'wicked,' actually."

"Well they are wicked!" he said, defending his eleven year old self, which was quite hard. "And do you know what you did when I said that?" he asked. She shook her head, grinning in anticipation at his response. "You poured your pumpkin juice on my pants!"

She let out a snort of laughter. "You can't possibly get offended at me for _that_. If I recall correctly, so did you!"

"That…" he laughed, fumbling for words. "That is completely irrelevant! I complimented you and your poured your drink in my lap."

There was laughter in her eyes. "You enjoyed it. Why else would you have done it again?" She grinned wickedly and he laughed, defeated.

They didn't share their first kiss that day, though the date was entirely enjoyable. However, when they got back to the Common Room that night, and she was departing for bed, she said something that fully convinced him that girls were completely mad.

"Hey, Potter," she called through the door to the girls stairs. She was peeking out around the door so that only her nose up could be seen. When she saw him looking her way, she said, "nice rack," laughed, and continued up the stairs.

Baffled, he went to bed in a daze, more coordinated, yes, a bit more suave, certainly, but also, completely love sick and in the mind set that the sole reason that girls existed were to drive blokes absolutely bloody insane.

* * *

"You know what, Lily?" James asked, smiling contently at his wife, both of which were watching their son tear through the house on his little toy broom.

"Hm?" she asked, preparing to make a leap at Harry every time he took a sharp turn, almost into a wall. Or the cat. Or that horrible vase. Well, not so much the vase. But she did rather like her wall and cat, and her son injury-free.

"Harry's got your eyes," James pointed out with a grin.

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I've noticed," she responded, but she couldn't help but smile. She looked at him, expecting an elaboration.

"They're wicked."


End file.
